


If you could, I know that you’d stay

by charleia



Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Coven
Genre: F/F, it’s sad i’m sorry, i’m suffering and taking others down with me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-04
Updated: 2019-09-04
Packaged: 2020-10-06 22:00:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20514170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charleia/pseuds/charleia
Summary: Cordelia knew that when she ascended to the position of the Supreme that one day, another witch would replace her and back then she had accepted her fate. She just hadn’t anticipated that by then, she would have build her life along with Misty and that leaving her behind would the most difficult thing she’d ever done.





	If you could, I know that you’d stay

**Author's Note:**

> So my teacher tells me to write about my feelings, to channel my negative feelings into something creative. I think this is an adequate reflection of how I have been feeling in the past few weeks. 
> 
> I’m sorry if it’s too grim. It’s raw and unedited and i may end up deleting this as it’s so different from what I usually do. Anyways I promise i’m still working on the other AU i’m just a tad busy rn! 
> 
> title: Joanne - Lady Gaga

Misty is dancing around the yard.

Careless, happy, free. Unaware of the impending dread that is about to befall her. It’s raining. No-  _ pouring.  _ Not a soul would even dream about going outside in this weather. But Misty wasn’t just an average soul. Misty was  _ Misty _ . Enamoured with mother earth’s flora and fauna, ever so connected with nature. Perhaps she was a little peculiar. Perhaps that was also the exact thing that Cordelia loved about her, what captured her attention, what drew Cordelia to her, like a moth to a flame. 

Cordelia just stands there and watches her for a moment. Just for a moment, she tells herself. She has been putting this off for far too long. It’s not fair to Misty. Then again, life has never been fair to either of them. 

Misty notices her, now. She smiles sweetly, stretches her arms out to Cordelia and waves her over, a silent invitation to come and join her. 

She shouldn’t do it. She feels weak, barely able to stand upright. In spite of that, she perches a smile onto her face. It’s forced, awkward and fake, and it seems as though Misty notices this but if even if she does, she decides to not comment upon it. 

Cordelia leaves her safe haven from inside their home and releases her grip on the frame of the door. She regrets this immediately for her legs instantly feel like jello, mere seconds away from giving in. Still, she perseveres. With shaky legs, she ventures out into the autumn monsoon that the sky unforgivingly pours down on them.

And it’s a cliché, she begrudgingly realises. For somehow, in all those romance movies her girls forced her to watch, devastating events are always paired with heaven showering down its tears on God’s green one. 

She nearly stumbles, nearly trips over her own feet but Misty catches her just in time, securely envelops Cordelia in a tight embrace and whispers a quiet  _ I’ve got you _ in her ear. The soft tunes drifting from Misty’s small jukebox, which she enchanted to withstand any storm, are scarcely loud to be heard above the downpour, but Misty is unbothered by this and sings along any way.   
  


Cordelia can’t say it, not now. It’s not a good moment. 

_ It’ll never be a good moment _ , the voice inside her head tells her, and in spite of her reluctance, she agrees. It’s never a good moment to tell a loved one that, one day soon, you will have to leave them forever. She needs to stop dragging it out. She can feel her powers fade away, she can feel the magic that once coursed through her veins like some type of wildfire abate. 

She can feel her inevitable demise creeping up on her. She senses it. Not much longer now before it reaches her.

Misty definitely knows something is up now. She nudges Cordelia, nose pressing against her cheek, an attempt to coax her into meeting her gaze.

Cordelia refuses. Once she does, there will be nowhere to hide. There will be no way back. She wants to relish this moment for just a while longer. Just a while longer of Misty being happy. Free from sorrow. Free from heartbreak. 

She loops her arms around Misty, uses the hug as a facade to hide her grim expression as she awkwardly sways along with her. She’s never been very adept at dancing. Usually this brought laughter to Misty yet now, she was awfully quiet. 

Cordelia sighs deeply and defeatedly. She can’t prolong the moment for much longer. By now, the rain has soaked her to the bone. Feet squish inside her shoes, hair slickly sticks to her face and a chill shudders through her entire body.  _ So much for radiant health _ . 

The change in Cordelia’s demeanor does not go lost on Misty. She waits. If Cordelia wants to share whatever burden has been placed upon her shoulders, she will, she supposes. Still, her curiosity starts to consume her. She watches Cordelia like a hawk, watches her every move in hopes that it will give her the slightest bit of information, but Cordelia doesn’t budge. 

So she tries it again. She nudges Cordelia and this time she does look up, still not quite meeting Misty’s eyes. Her eyes, once bright like molten amber, now seemed dull and haunted. A certain darkness lurked behind them, a darkness that hadn’t been present before. 

It takes her aback.

It is then that Misty decides it’s enough. She gently extracts herself from Cordelia’s embrace and offers to go back inside with a promise of tea and some left over take-out from the day before.

Knowing that she can no longer hide, Cordelia accepts with a heavy heart.  
  
  


Wrapping the thick, soft comforter around their shoulders, Cordelia sits down next to Misty, who then hands her a mug. She can feel Misty staring at her expectantly but she directs her gaze down towards the cup of tea in her hands. She takes a deep breath and places it on the nightstand before turning towards Misty. She doesn’t know how to say it. She rambles on about the duties of the Supreme, the burdens that come with it, painstakingly tiptoeing around what exactly she wants to say. Her hand reaches up to caress Misty’s face. She takes one last moment to look at her, to commit her every feature to her memory before soon it’s gone forever and then— she finally tells. 

She tells Misty about the new Supreme that’s been rapidly growing stronger, about her own health declining at lighting speed, how she’s been battling a plethora of ailments and how her days are numbered. 

At first, Misty doesn’t reply. She barely registers it. Her brain simply refuses to. Cordelia continues to speak, tears now streaming down her cheeks, begging Misty to talk to her or to even  _ look _ at her. To give her  _ some _ semblance of that she had understood. 

Misty understands it all too well.

All air has been knocked from her lungs and for a prolonged second, she feels as though she can’t breathe, as though the floor vanished from beneath her feet and she is falling down a dark, seemingly endless hole.   
  


A broken sob tears from Misty’s chest, the sound of it startling Cordelia slightly. Cordelia shifts, taking Misty in her arms, holding her tightly and rocking her gently as she cries. It’s heart wrenching and soul crushing, seeing Misty so broken. Cordelia had accepted her fate the second she ascended to the position, it was inevitable, nothing to do about it. She’d loathed her mother for trying to delay her ascension but now, as she had managed to build up her life with the woman whom she loved so dearly, she finally understands. 

Cordelia kisses her softly, tearfully whispers that they still have some time, that she’s not gone just yet. Framing her face with her hands, Cordelia wipes Misty’s tears away with her thumbs and kisses her again, over and over, now much more fervently.

Misty’s eyes flutter shut as she sighs against Cordelia’s lips, arms wrapping around her waist in a protective grip as she pulled her into her lap. She kisses her passionately, heatedly. She knows it may be the last time that she gets to do it and she’ll be damned if she doesn’t make it count. 

Her hands roam, mapping out Cordelia’s slender frame, growing bolder every second. She undresses her slowly, every touch purposeful and laced with admiration, dedication and unbridled love.

Cordelia follows, shaky hands tugging at Misty’s sweatshirt before pulling it over her head as she kisses her, mumbling sweet, reassuring words against her lips.

Misty pulls her close, impossibly close, every inch of Cordelia’s body pressed against her own. She relishes it one last time, how well their bodies feel when sculpted together. She holds her just a little too tightly. A part of her naively hopes that if she holds her tight enough, that maybe she’ll stay with her forever, that somehow, her touch will heal the hurt caused by the ascension of Cordelia’s successor. That, maybe, she won’t leave her behind, on her own.

But as expected, it proves futile.  
  
  


Mere days after her death, Cordelia’s portrait is hung amongst the others. Misty avoids that room for a long time, afraid to be met with a stark reminder of her lost love. She spends her days in their room, the greenhouse and the yard. Their favourite spots together. Sometimes, she can still feel a remnant of Cordelia’s energy there.

In those moments, Misty casts her eyes skyward, smiling softly as she fidgets with the necklace Cordelia had gifted her for their ten year anniversary. In those moments, she simply closes her eyes, and when she does, she can almost imagine that Cordelia is still with her. She can almost feel the warmth of her embrace, the soft caress of her delicate hands and the tickling of her breath on her skin.

In those moments, it heals her broken, mangled heart.

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi on twitter (sequerelucem) or instagram (b.riarcliffs) and feedback is always appreciated ofc


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